


Fire

by Feral_Samurai (Torrent_River123)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Animals, Destruction, Fire, Gen, Nature, Poetry, Rain, Storm - Freeform, Thunder - Freeform, Tribute to fire, Wind - Freeform, emotional loss (mentioned), this is old
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:38:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23809348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Torrent_River123/pseuds/Feral_Samurai
Summary: This is my collection of poetry





	1. Chapter 1

Fire.

Tis’ not a tame beast, 

And yet, we jest with it.

It has destroyed our homes,

Our tomes,

And even lives.

And yet, some in our midst do not see the need

To teach their youths to be weary

And fear the Fire.

Why?

Fire.

Tis’ not all bad.

It was the savior of early man.

Many legends have been told

Of its power and worth

It sometimes sways, warm and inviting...

But still its loyalties are uncertain.

Will it truly save us?

Will it protect us till our doom?

Or will it scourge the human nations?

Burning...

Devouring…

Killing…

Will Fire chase the unknown darkness with its light?

Or will it rear, turn its head and bite?

Thus is the dilemma that man must face.

Shall we trust, and so may warrant our doom?

Shall we play with the flames, and hope that all will be well?

Or shall we be wise and not heed to our mind’s unaware calm?


	2. Nature

The winds…

They woosh.

As if urging their kin to blow, blow their strongest 

And carry the blanket of flowers

Who have worked hard to produce the most beautiful buds

Away.

The trees…

They sigh, as if another long day has finally come to an end.

Their leaves shudder, shaking and weary.

Yet the trees know that the leaves will fall, 

To make way for the first fresh, green sprouts 

Of Spring.

The animals…

They scurry busily,

But as the sunshine approaches over the horizon,

Making the sky blush the most beautiful shade,

They slowen their pace, 

And stop to view the sunrise

And welcome the first true day of Spring. 


	3. Raindrop

A storm is brewing.

_ Rumble. _

There is no living thing in sight, and yet the mood is not morbid. 

The sky is gray, but peaceful,

As if the sun were having a midday rest.

And then-

A single raindrop. 

It lands on the surface of the water

Leaving smooth ripples in its wake.

There is only that one sound-

It broke the silence.

_ Plop. _

The whole world is silent, like it is waiting for something,

Something to become of the ripples.

But they only roll silently across the lake,

As if a woman were carefully smoothing out wrinkles in a silk.

The storm waits, too.

It feels as if the hanging clouds were to fall from the sky,

As if heaven itself could drop.

And then came the stillness.

The ripples made soft waves against the still shore,

It was peaceful.

The world could be still.

There was no need to breath,

Only stay, in the peace. 

And once more, the lake was a perfect mirror.

  
  
  


The storm continues to wait, as does the whole world,

For that one, small raindrop.


End file.
